


Metamorphosis

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: Narcissa is worried about Bellatrix, and Bellatrix finds than incredibly amusing.





	Metamorphosis

It’s dark.  
Dark.  
And yet, I know, it’s still day.  
I see the sun creeping in from the window of my room, but it’s stained, dirty.  
It’s corrupted.  
Inside the room flutter irregular coils of smoke. The smell is acrid, it drenches the furniture, the objects, my clothes, my hair. It goes deep inside my bones, and I like it.  
Smoke kills.  
My sweet, innocent little sister always tells me that, with that anxious look which is there since her birth, that’s she’ll never stop to wear.  
I hate it.  
I take another puff, before I notice it’s out already. I sneer, and I light up one more. I take in the smoke, I send it straight to my lungs, brutal, and this act become routine makes me think of him.  
From the very first moment I saw him, it happened the same thing. He got inside of me, under my skin, making me feel an almost pleasurable pain. I listened to him talking, and it was like he was the only one around, like the rest of the world had suddenly lost all its sense.  
My entire existence shattered under his touch, and yet I felt so damn alive.  
I remember my sister’s look. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.  
She looked at me, terrified, and asked me what had happened.  
She understood, somehow, that there was something different in me that night, what I had seen a poorly hidden path behind the expectations that other people had in me.  
A path I wanted to take, and that would’ve led me to the source of the purest power, which I would’ve shared with him only.  
Nothing happened I had answered, but on my face harboured a smile so diabolical as to undo my lie before it was told. And her terror grew.

The door opens.  
It’s her, again. She comes in here all too often in the past weeks. She looks at me, says something incoherent and then run away, like she’s unable to look for too long at my slow and imperceptible metamorphosis.  
Because she knows.  
She saw his presence in my eyes, and she tries to overlook my corrupted soul, ignoring how far gone it is.  
She grimaces for the smoke, and goes toward the window.  
“The air is unbreathable, Bella.” she scolds me. I laugh, giving the cigarette another puff.  
“The air is unbreathable in this house, but it’s not because of the smoke.” I tell her, crashing the stub in the ashtray. I’m hit by the sunlight, coming from the outside world, which I’ve been trying to elude since days. I stare ad Narcissa, angry, like she tore me away from my dream.  
“Close it.” I hiss, raising an eyebrow. I see her biting a lip, and I smile again. She doesn’t want to go against me, I trained her too well, like she’s an animal and not a human being. And still, something in her look tells me she wants to disobey what I’ve always told he, just because she’s convinced she can help me, somehow.  
Dreamer.  
“You’ve been weird lately, Bella.” she says, cautious, wanting to hide the rebellion.  
“I’m weird you say? I don’t feel weird at all. On the contrary, I feel well.” I answer, lighting up another cigarette. I lost count of how many I’ve smoked in the past few days, but looking at her worried face it’s very well worth the price on my health.  
“You’ve just put out one.” she protests, but she’s more docile now. She’s getting back in the ranks, my little sister. She’s lost, she knows she wants to challenge me, and at the same time she doesn’t want to face the consequences. I see her breaking right in front of me, and I relish that show like she’s on this earth for my mere entertainment.  
“You’ve opened the window. And I want to darken the sun, the light annoys me.” my voice is flat, laconic, I feign a boredom I don’t really feel. I see her looking at the sky, outside, its blue so pure and sharp to my eyes. That sky I want to darken and she tries to keep alive, as if watching it could purge my every sin.  
I feel sort of sorry for her, for whomever lacks the courage to defend their own decisions, to follow a different path, just once.  
Until compassion is eaten by hatred, and I’m on fire inside my own mind, drenched in resentment.  
Why should I pity them? Why shouldn’t I rejoice in the fact that they know nothing about themselves, while I was elected to know all, to follow him over the limits of human comprehension?  
I look at my sister, her face still so innocent, and I realize I hate her.  
Little Cissy, who gets everything she wants. Little Cissy, still too young to have to worry about a future that may even not come at all.  
I chose to give all myself to Voldemort, even though I didn’t need to.  
He could’ve taken me whenever he wanted to, with a simple twist of his hand, and yes I chose, and this changes everything.  
I chose what to do with my life the moment my senses have been enslaved by his presence, I chose to make my sister look at me like I’m becoming the monster that, in the end, I’ve always been.  
I look at her intently, I scare her, and I relish the power I hold over her.  
She’s my guinea pig, because one day my eyes will have the same power over anyone who’ll still dare to call himself human.  
I divert my eyes briefly, taking the package beside me, with nonchalance.  
“I’m out of cigarettes.” I say cheerfully to my sister, while she looks at me horrified. The smoke, the last puff, the last breath surrounds my face, disfiguring it.  
I don’t say another word, and Narcissa closes the window.  
The dark is back, like an old quick-tempered lover, keeping me company.  
I breath deeply the last traces of the artificial fog that still permeates these dull walls, and I smile.  
The sky is much more beautiful when it’s darkened, isn’t it Narcissa?  
But I keep quiet, and after a few more moments she leaves me alone.  
She gave up, I know.  
She run, and I can follow her just with my mind.  
Until I’ll drag her inside this darkness, like anyone else who’ll try to get closer.  
Rebel, little Cissy, scream to the world that your sister’s insane, that she was taken by the deepest of evils, that her existence is a stain on our world, undercutting the roots of what we’ve always believed.  
And if I’ll succeed, they won’t have ears to listen to you, little sister.  
And then you’ll be mine, like this smoke, evanescent and immortal.  
And alive.


End file.
